


Tasha And Lillian, Sitting In A Tree

by Ashling



Category: Original Work
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Food, Magic, No Plot/Plotless, Worldbuilding, i'm SOFT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: K-I-S-S-I-N-G!(Featuring wild boars, glowing freckles, and quite a lot of food.)
Relationships: Forest Mage/Farm Mage, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	Tasha And Lillian, Sitting In A Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyphomandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyphomandra/gifts).



Tasha is not at all surprised when Lillian shows up late. Lillian has always been as sprawling and uncontainable as Tasha is organized and exact, and Tasha has become accustomed to her late appearances and conversational tangents as Lillian has become accustomed to Tasha's Marie Kondo-ing and obsession with spreadsheets. When she was younger, Tasha would have called this 'settling' and perhaps demanded that Lillian make the effort to show up on time, but she's mellowed out since those days and she thinks that's probably a sign she's ready.

That said, half an hour is a lot, and Lillian didn't even send her a bird to apologize, so Tasha's gotten a little worried by the time Lillian pulls up in her sled. 

Tasha pokes her head out of the window. "Hey, babe." It's a twenty foot drop from the window to the forest floor, and Tasha squints in the low evening light, trying to figure out which gigantic boar is pulling the sled today. She makes her best guess. "And uh, hey there, Boris."

It's not that the boar will mind if she gets it wrong—the boars don't understand her voice any more than the cows understand Lillian's—but Lillian's always been bemused by Tasha's inability to tell the boars apart, and worse, Lillian's never struggled to tell the cows apart, so Tasha hates getting it wrong.

Lillian waves, then goes and unhitches the boar from the sled. "My girlfriend says hi."

The boar grunts, and once free, flees back into the forest. The deep woods animals, like the boars, get a bit touchy about venturing onto farmland in a way that deer do not. It's a testament to Lillian's charisma that they're willing to leave the forest at all, even at the outskirts.

Once he's gone, Lillian climbs the tree, nimble as a squirrel, and peeps in at the open window of the treehouse.

"Hi," she says, smiling. Her dark eyes are alight and her freckles, usually invisible against her dark skin, are glowing flecks of gold. She's so excited she could burst, it's written all over her face, and Tasha just about melts. 

"Hi," she says back, and kisses her. Lillian tastes like wild strawberries. They take their time with it, decadent and slow. 

Eventually, Lillian pulls away, lips plumper than before, and says, "How late am I?" in a very contrite voice that doesn't fool Tasha at all. 

"Half an hour," says Tasha, but she's incapable of still being mad about it, after that.

"I'm sorry, but it was for a good reason."

"I figured," says Tasha, swinging open the door.

Lillian shimmies along the window frame, then grabs onto the door and scrambles into the house. "Wanna see?"

"Of course," Tasha says indulgently. It's probably nothing more than some new strain of trout—Lillian's been particularly into streams, this autumn—but Lillian looks so pleased with herself, Tasha wouldn't mind if it was just an old penny.

It turns out to be a selfie. Lillian, freckles bright as fireflies, grinning with all her teeth, lying on the forest floor. And all around her, baby boars the size of small dogs, a lighter brown than their mother and patterned in pale stripes. The mother is in the background. Tasha hazards a guess.

"Is that Millie's new babies?"

"No, that's Gimlet."

"Oh, I see it now," Tasha lies. (Lillian probably spots the lie, but lets it go.) "They're lovely, Lil."

"Thanks!" says Lillian, as proud as if she'd birthed them herself. Then she puts away her phone. "Alright, let's do this. I've still got a lot to do before tomorrow. I've still got to make my dress."

"Don't worry about it," says Tasha. "I'm sure it'll turn out great." And it will. Lillian's good with Queen Anne's lace, and she's a pro at turning on the heat when procrastinating time is over.

"We'll see how it goes," says Lillian, which means she's still in the planning stages and probably doesn't even know what color she'll be dyeing it yet. "Let's start with yours?" 

Tasha's contribution is a tiny cheesecake the size of a tart, smooth as silk and rich as farm earth. Then, jewel-colored and in big glass jars, there's three fruit compotes on the side, which can be smeared on top at will. Mixed berry, wild berry, and strawberry, which is Lillian's favorite.

Lillian's verdict is, "It's gorgeous!" And then, "Do you have more?"

"Not more for you to eat right now," Tasha says, "But the big one is in the fridge, all ready for tomorrow, and I have it decorated with a pattern of mint leaves."

An expression of horror steals over Lillian's face. "Did you, ah—"

"I didn't _plant mint_ , if that's what you're about to ask me," says Tasha, affronted.

"Right! Just wondering."

"I got the leaves from the farmer's market. And I didn't use any magic on dessert because I already figured you would go in big on that, and I'll need to save my energy for after dinner."

Lillian can't help her with what comes after dinner, which is that all the kids (and a few of the adventuresome adults) get to try their hand at riding a flying cow. Tasha has been training her herd in anticipation of this for practically two weeks straight, and she's pretty sure they will be well-behaved, but with kids involved it's always best to keep a reserve of strength just in case she needs to pull out some heavy-duty magic. 

"Makes total sense," says Lillian. "You wanna see mine now?"

"Yeah, and I wouldn't mind eating it, too."

Lillian's proud of her work, and she should be. The dandelion salad has a dressing that's sharp and light, and it's balanced well with nuts and berries. Then there's a crusty bread baked by Lillian's aunt and a selection of cheeses from Tasha's farm and many of her friends' farms. Some are mild and soft, others aged and complex, and of course there's a straightforward, salty cheddar for Tasha. And there's clay-baked trout, delicate and flavored with fresh-picked herbs. It's all lovely, but when Lillian says, "What do you think?" Tasha says, "I know something's missing."

"Oh, this was all I could do. I've been pretty busy this week, you know!" 

"We both have," says Tasha, "but you're not going to pass up a chance to show off. C'mon."

"Well." Lillian dimples. "If you insist."

Her pièce de résistance is a piece of rotting wood that sits on a pile of damp earth inside a long glass case. Then there's a long, rectangular plate with six different mushrooms on it, each one browned in butter, each one different in color, shape, texture, and taste. Each one accompanied by a tiny pile of painted pebbles, one for each color of the rainbow.

"You're so extra," says Tasha.

"You love it."

"I really do. So why mushrooms?"

"Well, let's say the seating arrangements aren't perfect. I know you have a spreadsheet, but let's just say that two of our friends have secretly gotten into a fight."

"Or not-so-secretly, knowing Isis."

"I love Isis," says Lillian, but she doesn't try to defend her, either. "Anyway, let's say you're a guest who wants to get out of an awkward conversation. What to do? Well, I think I could have some more of these lovely oyster mushrooms. Maybe I want to mix them in with some chanterelles." She picks up some purple pebbles and then adds some red ones. "It's been lovely talking to you, Barb, and I definitely will seriously consider joining your multilevel marketing scam, but right now I'm feeling a bit hungry, so I'm gonna go grab some more mushrooms." She lifts the lid of the glass case and tosses the pebbles onto the rotting wood. As soon as the glass case closes again, the mushrooms begin to grow. They take all of fifteen seconds. Tasha has seen her girlfriend accelerate growth of all kinds before, but this is truly impressive.

"If I could breed calves this fast, we'd win state fair twice over," she says.

"If you could breed calves this fast, we'd have way too many cows on our hands."

"I can always sell the extras."

"You say that, but then you never do." 

"Yeah, yeah." Tasha flaps her hand. "We're not overrun yet, and all's well that ends well. So how are these fresh mushrooms gonna get me out of Barb's iron grip?"

"You take them and go cook them over at one of the fires. At the end of the dinner, I'll clear away all the cast iron pans and let the kids toast marshmallows over them. Presumably, this will also give Isis a good chance to flirt with Keira, since you refuse to let me seat them together."

"Oh, so it's all a scheme."

Lillian grins. "I'm like Cupid, but cuter."

"You're a holy terror, and I live in fear of the day you become my wife." 

Lillian's freckles spark. 

"Oh, you like that?" says Tasha. "Well, in less than twenty-four hours, you will be _my wife,_ so best get used to it."

Lillian's freckles glow. "And I'd best get working on my dress." Snagging one last piece of cheese, Lillian stands up and stretches, her long limbs enabling her to nearly touch the treehouse ceiling. "I wouldn't mind getting married buck naked, but I think my mother would have some objections."

"To say nothing of _my_ mother."

Lillian pulls a face, then takes a step back and considers Tasha. It's a long look, and Tasha's not sure what she's searching for until Lillian finally says, "Are we ready?"

"I am if you are."

"Okay." One last kiss, and then she's out the window. 

Tasha sticks her head out and peers down after her. Already, there's a big boar waiting, although it's pacing back and forth looking pretty nervous. "Hi, Boris!"

"It's Adelaide, actually," Lillian calls back up. 

"Sorry, Adelaide. I'll get it right eventually."

The boar grunts.

"You've got the rest of your life," Lillian says. "Love you!" Under the arms of the trees, she looks a right forest goddess, half-shadow and flickering with the leaves as she mounts the sled.

Tasha stares, because she wants to, because she can. She's never felt luckier. "Love you."


End file.
